Time
by HufflepuffBanana
Summary: Due to a strange incident involving a Time-Turner, a bar of chocolate, and a photo, Harry Potter finds himself in his eleven-year-old body during the summer of 1971. Not only does he meet those he never thought he would see again, but also takes the chance to save everyone he ever loved. Rated T for language and later violence.
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Any recognizable people, places, events, items, or spells belong to JK Rowling.**

 **Summary: Due to a strange incident involving a Time-Turner, a bar of chocolate, and a photo, Harry Potter finds himself in his eleven-year-old body during the summer of 1971. Not only does he meet those he never thought he would see again, but also takes the chance to save everyone he ever loved.**

 **I know, I know, I'm a terrible person, posting yet another story when neither of my others are finished. But I like time-travel fics, and I had an idea for this one, so I decided to write. Besides, if I have an idea, it's best for me to write it down, or else I forget.**

 **This story is supposed to go from the summer of 1971 to the Battle of Hogwarts, and maybe past then. Other than that, I'm not giving any other information about the story.**

* * *

 **Time**

 **1\. Prologue**

Time is not something to be meddled with.

But it's happened before. People have messed with time and could have gotten themselves killed. People have put themselves through great danger to change the past into something they wanted it to be. Some people have even traveled to the future to do that very same thing.

People have risked lives to change the past.

Harry James Potter is one of them.

* * *

 **May 17, 1998**

Harry didn't want to think about the War.

He didn't want to think about all those who had died, all the families that had been torn apart, all those who had suffered. He didn't want to think about what he'd seen in the Great Hall...all those people had died, died for the Wizarding world, died so the next generation could live peaceful lives, not lives full of war and suffering...all those people had died out of love.

Harry didn't want to open the letter on the desk, the letter addressed to him in emerald-green ink, the letter that would likely be an attempt to comfort him.

Harry didn't want comfort. He didn't want pity. He didn't want people to talk to him, because he knew it would bring memories back to the surface of his mind.

He opened it anyway. There were a few items in the envelope, but he took the letter first.

 _Harry_ —

 _I understand that you're hurting, and I understand you don't want to be in contact with anyone, no matter who it is. But I hope you understand that things like this happen._

Yes, he understood that things like this happened. If this was, in fact, an attempt at comforting him, whoever had written it was not doing a very good job.

 _But I also hope that you have enough sense to not use the enclosed items only for you. Use them to save the Wizarding world._

There was no signature.

Harry was confused. 'Use them to save the Wizarding world'? What was that supposed to mean?

The only remarkable thing about the items was that there was a Time-Turner. The other two were just the photo of the Marauders that Harry had discovered at Grimmauld Place, and a rather large bar of chocolate.

For a moment, Harry didn't know what he was supposed to do with these things. And where did this person get a Time-Turner? They had all been destroyed at the Battle of the Department of Mysteries. Perhaps the letter-writer had this Time-Turner from before the battle—yes, that made sense.

He turned the envelope upside-down, to check if he missed anything, and another slip of parchment fell out.

 _I placed a Pausing Charm (_ Ego prohibere) _on the Time-Turner; it's already set to the time needed. Hold all three items (it's best to wear the Time-Turner) and say the incantation for the Activation Charm:_ Movere ad usum proximum.

 _I wish you luck._

Harry put the Time-Turner around his neck and picked up both the chocolate and the photo. He was beyond confused, but trusted whoever the letter was from, for some reason.

He hesitated for a moment—a moment he used to wonder where (or rather, _when_ ) the Time-Turner would take him—before saying clearly, " _Movere ad usum proximum_."

There was a flash of blinding light and he was gone.


	2. Friends and Enemies

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Any recognizable people, places, events, items, or spells belong to JK Rowling.**

 **Summary: Due to a strange incident involving a Time-Turner, a bar of chocolate, and a photo, Harry Potter finds himself in his eleven-year-old body during the summer of 1971. Not only does he meet those he never thought he would see again, but also takes the chance to save everyone he ever loved.**

* * *

 **Time**

 **2\. Chapter 1**

 **Friends and Enemies**

 **June 15, 1971**

Harry was gliding through memories, memories that weren't his. He was three, and at his uncle's wedding. He was four, and flying on a practice broom with a boy that looked almost exactly like him. He was five, and learning about Hogwarts for the first time. He was seven, and at his grandfather's funeral. He was eight, and riding his first proper broom. He was ten, and at a Muggle amusement park with his parents and brother. He was eleven, and at Diagon Alley, getting his first wand.

There was a strange voice in his head, a voice that wasn't his. _You're James Potter's twin_ , it said, _younger son of Fleamont and Euphemia Potter, born March 27, 1960. These are your memories. Use this chance wisely._

 _What chance?_ Harry thought, before it came to him. The chance to save everyone.

He opened his eyes and found himself lying in the grass, behind a brick house with mahogany window panes that fit in nicely.

"Harry!"

Harry turned towards the voice and saw James running out of the side door. "Hi, James." It felt odd to see his father this young—in person, not just in a memory. He felt nervous for some reason—though happy, and, of course, determined. Determined to save him. Determined to save _all_ of them.

"Mum and Dad want you inside, come on!"

"Why?"

James hesitated for a moment before saying, "They found out it was us who filled an old jam jar with spiders and put it back in one of the cabinets. I mean, who else would it be, but at first they thought the spiders got in there on their own, you remember."

A memory came to him, a memory of him and James running around the attic, trapping spiders in a jar, and putting it in the kitchen. He laughed, but followed James inside.

"Boys, these pranks of yours have gone too far," Euphemia said sternly. James pretended to look innocent and Harry didn't need to pretend at all, seeing as—in a way—he hadn't actually helped James pull the prank. "Don't play dumb with me," she said, glancing at their innocent expressions. "I won't punish you this time, I just gave you your broomsticks back, but you'd better behave."

Harry and James both nodded before Harry followed James upstairs and into their bedroom, Harry reading _The Standard Book of Spells: Grade One_ and James working on prank ideas.

 **TIME JUMP TO SEPTEMBER 1ST, 1971, BROUGHT TO YOU BY LAZINESS**

"Now, boys, be good for your professors. Do you have Godric and Hedwig? Good. Keep them in their cages for right now, at least until you get to Hogwarts. Fleamont, you are _not_ sending the Invisibility Cloak with them. Yes, I saw you take it out of your pocket. Put it back right now. They don't need that in their first year..."

Harry smiled at the stream of advice Euphemia was giving him and James; his grin broadened as she chastised Fleamont for bringing the Invisibility Cloak to the station.

"Here we are," said Fleamont, stopping.

"You go first, Harry," said James, moving over a bit.

Harry nodded and started towards the barrier, breaking into a run, and he soon found himself on Platform 9 3/4.

Fleamont was behind him, followed by James and Euphemia.

Once they found a place to stand and wait, Fleamont gave the twins his own 'advice': "Do well in classes, but not too well, people have high expectations for the smartest kids. Pull enough pranks for the name 'Potter' to be famous. Get Sorted into Gryffindor. Don't befriend any Slytherins. Don't—ow!" Euphemia had slapped him in the shoulder to make him stop talking.

Harry grinned and looked around the station. He could have sworn he saw Remus Lupin, and he _knew_ he saw Sirius Black, standing with his parents, brother, aunt and uncle, and two out of his three cousins.

"What're you doing, Harry?" James asked.

"Looking for potential friends."

The train whistle sounded, and the twins, after saying goodbye to their parents rushed onto the train, waving one more time from the door before running off.

Harry led James into a compartment—the compartment that he knew, from Snape's memories, was the compartment in which Sirius would be.

He was right.

"Hello," Sirius said brightly from the corner by the window in which he was sitting.

"Hi," said Harry, as James nodded a greeting. "I'm Harry Potter, this is my twin, James."

"Sirius Black," said the other boy, extending a hand. Both Harry and James shook it.

James sat next to Sirius, Harry in the corner next to the door, on the same seat as the other two.

After a few minutes of innocent talk, of Quidditch and pranks and Hogwarts, the compartment door opened. In rushed a redhead girl whom Harry recognized as Lily, followed by a young Snape.

James and Sirius paid no attention to Snape and Lily's conversation, until they heard Snape say, "You'd better be in Slytherin."

"Slytherin?"

James looked around at the word.

"Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" James asked Sirius. Sirius did not smile.

"My whole family have been in Slytherin," he said.

"Blimey," said James, "and I thought you seemed alright!" Sirius grinned.

"Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

James lifted an invisible sword.

"'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad." Snape made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy—"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" interjected Sirius.

James roared with laughter. Lily sat up, rather flushed, and looked from James to Sirius in dislike.

"Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment."

"Oooooo . . ."

James and Sirius imitated her lofty voice; James tried to trip Snape as he passed.

"See ya, Snivellus!" Sirius called, as the compartment door slammed shut.

Harry glanced at James and Sirius, frowning.

"What's wrong, Harry?" James asked.

"Why'd you do that?" Harry asked. His first goal was to eliminate the Marauders' grudge against Slytherins.

"One," began Sirius, "did you see the kid?"

"And two," added James, "he's annoying as crap."

" _Language_ , Potter," Sirius teased.

"He might be annoying and he might not look well-cared-for, but he's just another first year, another student."

"He wants to be in Slytherin!" James said indignantly.

"Everyone has their own preferences," said Harry as two boys entered the compartment.

"You don't mind, do you?" asked the taller of the two—perhaps by a head. By the scars on his face, Harry knew it was Remus. The other, he decided, had to be Peter Pettigrew.

James shook his head. "You can sit here, it's fine."

Remus sat at the other window seat, Peter across from Harry.

"Hi," said Sirius.

"Who're you?" James asked.

"Remus Lupin."

"Peter Pettigrew."

"What about you?" asked Remus.

"Harry Potter, this is my twin James."

"Sirius Black, and what's with the scars?"

" _Sirius_!" Harry cried.

Remus didn't seem fazed."Oh, I — er, I'm clumsy."

The others—especially Pettigrew—took no notice of his hesitation. In fact, Harry probably wouldn't have noticed, if he hadn't been listening for it. He would have to keep this observant side alert if he wanted to save everyone.

* * *

 **A/N: So. The Sorting will be in the next chapter.**


	3. A Hat and a Ghost

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Any recognizable people, places, events, items, or spells belong to JK Rowling.**

 **Summary: Due to a strange incident involving a Time-Turner, a bar of chocolate, and a photo, Harry Potter finds himself in his eleven-year-old body during the summer of 1971. Not only does he meet those he never thought he would see again, but also takes the chance to save everyone he ever loved.**

 **This chapter covers Harry and the Marauders' arrival at Hogwarts, the Sorting, and the Welcoming Feast.**

* * *

 **Time**

 **3\. Chapter 2**

 **A Hat and a Ghost**

 **September 1, 1971**

Harry—swiftly, so no one would see—slipped his wand into the pocket of his robes. He highly doubted that he would need it at the Sorting Ceremony and the Welcoming Feast, but one could never be too sure. It was quite unlikely that there would be danger—Dumbledore could and would handle any threat—but in the unlikely but possible event that the Headmaster couldn't confront the threat in time, Harry was ready. Of course, he wouldn't show his true amount of power. He was eighteen, but in an eleven-year-old's body; showing too much—or any, really—power would be suspicious.

He heard Hagrid calling, "Firs' years, firs' years, line up over here," and grinned, happy that Hagrid had been gamekeeper during the Marauders' years at Hogwarts. Harry hoped to befriend the half-giant quickly. It hadn't been difficult the first time around, but only because Hagrid had rescued Harry from the Dursleys. In this alternate past, Harry hadn't needed saving, so it would make sense if they didn't become friends as quickly as Harry wished. Friendship wasn't something that should be rushed.

As the students from years two through seven climbed into carriages—Harry could only hope that they couldn't see the thestrals—the first years lined up behind Hagrid.

They followed Hagrid down to the boats and climbed into them. Harry managed to clamber into the same boat as James, Peter, and Remus as they crossed the water; Sirius was in a boat with Lily (who looked as if she wanted to be in _any_ other boat), Snape, and a boy who looked like a young Xenophilius Lovegood. James's excitement had dimmed just a tad, but he put his fingers in the water as they crossed. Peter looked on, eyes wide with nervousness, while Remus just looked at the students around them with a smile.

And then Hogwarts come into view and all of the students were mesmerized by it, even Harry, though he had seen it before. All Harry could think about was how much more beautiful it looked compared to the last time he had seen it, damaged by the battle. A soft smile graced his lips, totally different than everyone else's looks of admiration and awe.

"It's wonderful," breathed Remus, his eyes wide as he stared at the magnificent castle. "Just like Dad said."

They finally made it across the lake and stepped out of their boats. Most of the first years had nervous looks etched on their faces as they walked up to the tall wooden doors with Hagrid. His knock echoed across the lake before the doors opened and there stood Professor McGonagall, tall and stern.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," McGonagall said as she ushered the first years inside the large castle.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right—on the other side of which was the Great Hall—but Professor McGonagall led the first years into a small, empty chamber off the Hall. The first years crowded in, peering around in nervousness and excitement.

"The four Houses are called Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. Each House has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your House points, while any rule breaking will lose House points. At the end of the year, the House with the most points is awarded the House Cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever House becomes yours. The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you get yourselves ready."

A small smile appeared on Harry's face. He remembered his first goal: to eliminate the Marauders hatred of all Slytherins. Many Slytherins had been on the Light side—such as Snape and Slughorn—and several Slytherin students had come back to fight alongside the Light.

He heard Remus and Peter whispering to each other beside him.

"Are you sure it's just a hat?" Peter was whispering to Remus, who reassured the other boy quickly.

"Positive. It's just a tattered old hat that you put on your head and it reads your mind and decides where you go," Remus replied, "And don't worry," he added, as if reading Peter's mind. "The Hat knows what's best for you, don't doubt it."

Peter sighed in relief. "Thanks, Remus," he breathed.

James was bouncing excitedly beside Harry, his hazel eyes studying the small room they were in. "We're at Hogwarts," he said excitedly to Harry. "We're finally here!"

Harry rolled his eyes at his father/brother's childish antics, but smiled and nodded, "Yes, we are," he answered, but he couldn't say anything else because McGonagall had returned.

"Form a line and follow me," the Professor said, and the first years quickly obliged.

The large doors that led to the Great Hall opened and Harry was met with a sight that brought back many memories. The four tables were in the same place as they were when he first came to Hogwarts—seating years two through seven.

He saw Dumbledore at the High Table and the memory of his death came to his mind. There were a few other teachers there that had died during the War, reminding Harry of their deaths as well, and he frowned, trying desperately to push the overwhelming memories away. He needed to look like a regular first year, not have a nervous breakdown. The Hat began to sing, but Harry didn't listen.

Professor McGonagall stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment and Harry finally managed to get most of the memories to leave so he could listen to the Sorting.

"When I call your name, you will put on the Hat and sit on the stool to be Sorted," she said. "Abbott, Calvin!"

The Hat quickly yelled, "HUFFLEPUFF," and Calvin ran the the Hufflepuff table, looking as if Christmas had come early. Harry saw a man whom he recognized as Zacharias Smith's father clap Calvin on the back before turning towards the Sorting Hat once more.

"Anderson, Wyatt!"

A rather small boy with ruffled brown hair and dark eyes ran to the stool. He sat on the stool for a moment before the Hat announced that he was a Ravenclaw.

The names continued.

"Baker, Colton!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

"Black, Sirius!"

Sirius seemed to be arguing with the Hat; he sat on the stool for at least a minute before the Hat declared him a Gryffindor. There was an awkward pause before the Gryffindors started applauding nervously. Harry could see Narcissa glaring at her cousin from the Slytherin table.

"Bones, Hazel!" joined Gryffindor, and both "Brakes, Grayson!" and "Brown, Olivia!" went to Hufflepuff.

Harry stiffened when "Crabbe, Vincent!"—the father of the Vincent Crabbe he had known—was called up and Sorted into Slytherin. He hadn't expected to have him in his year.

Lily joined Gryffindor almost immediately. The hat took around a minute to decide with Remus—Harry knew it was between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw for the young werewolf—before it decided on Gryffindor.

Peter joined Gryffindor after _two_ minutes of sitting on the stool; in this case, Harry knew it was between Gryffindor and Slytherin

More names were called until they finally got to "Potter, Harry!"

As he walked up, he laughed inwardly, thinking of what James must have done the first time around. However, other than that, he was just another student. On the outside, at least. On the outside, he was normal.

The Hat was placed on his head and Harry heard it speak into his mind.

 _"Hmm...I see I've sorted you before. Oh, in the future? Time traveler, eh? I've never had one of those."_

'Please don't tell,' Harry begged. 'No one can know.'

 _"Your secret's safe with me. Now, this is a very cunning plan. You would do well in Slytherin. Loyal also, Hufflepuff would be good. Not a bad mind, maybe Ravenclaw? A heart of a lion, Gryffindor would be glad to have you. Now, where to put you? I've never Sorted someone this hard. You would do well anywhere. I see you have friends in Gryffindor. That's where you were before, also. Gryffindor?"_

'Please Gryffindor,' Harry thought. 'I need to be in Gryffindor,'

 _"Yes, I see. Gryffindor will get you the farthest. Alright then."_

"GRYFFINDOR!"

He shouted the last word out for everyone to hear and the Gryffindor table erupted into applause.

"Potter, James!"

Harry paid strict attention as his father/brother walked up to the stool. He didn't wear the Hat for very long before it declared him a Gryffindor.

"I knew you'd make it here!" Harry said happily and James grinned back.

Lily looked annoyed, probably at the idea of there being _two_ Potters. Sirius, Remus, and James were grinning like maniacs—because all five of them were on the same House, probably—while Peter continued to look nervous and eye Harry. Harry knew that Peter didn't really like him, but he didn't know why. Frank Longbottom—a second year—was talking to some other students and he recognized one as Marlene McKinnon, another first year.

Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was.

Dumbledore had gotten to his feet, beaming at the students. "Welcome! Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin the feast, I would like to say a few words: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

"Thank you!"

Harry rolled his eyes as Dumbledore sat back down and everybody clapped.

The food appeared on the table and Harry was once again stricken with amazement at how much food there was: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops, lamb chops, sausages, bacon, steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and beppermint humbugs. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat.

"That does look good," said Nearly Headless Nick.

James looked up. "Can't you—?"

"I haven't eated nor nearly five hundred years," Nick said sadly. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"Otherwise known as Nearly-Headless Nick," said Frank Longbottom.

" _Nearly_ headless?" asked Sirius interestedly. "How can you be _nearly_ headless?"

Nick looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted. Harry grinned, remembering having this conversation with the Gryffindor ghost the first time around.

"Like _this_ ," he said irritably. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell into his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nick flipped his head back into his neck, coughed, and said, "So—new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the House Cup this year?"

Harry stifled a laugh behind his hand and ignored Nick's annoyed glare. He had just begun living in those timeline, but he already knew it would be unlikely that Gryffindor won the House Cup for now.

"Were _you_ a Gryffindor?" James asked Nick.

"Of course I was," the ghost replied. "How else would I have become the Gryffindor ghost?"

"That makes sense," said James.

"So the Friar was in Hufflepuff, the Baron in Slytherin, and the Grey Lady in Ravenclaw?" Harry asked, before mentally cursing himself.

"Yes," said Nick, looking slightly suspicious.

"How do you know about the other ghosts?" Sirius asked.

"It's in _Hogwarts: A History_ ," Harry answered. If his response was true, he was grateful for it; he still hadn't actually read the book.

The desserts disappeared, and Dumbledore got to his feet again. The Hall fell silent.

"To our first years, welcome! To our older students, welcome back! I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all students.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their House teams should contact Madam Hooch. Please remember that first years are not allowed on the teams.

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!"

A sixth year groaned.

* * *

 **A/N: There's Chapter 2! It's pretty long, especially for me, because my average is only around 600-700 words or so. Anyway, I'll probably have Chapter 3 up today; if not, tomorrow.**

 **Feel free to review; it makes me happy when I get email notices from you guys.**


	4. Saved by the Impossible

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Any recognizable people, places, events, items, or spells belong to JK Rowling.**

 **Summary: Due to a strange incident involving a Time-Turner, a bar of chocolate, and a photo, Harry Potter finds himself in his eleven-year-old body during the summer of 1971. Not only does he meet those he never thought he would see again, but also takes the chance to save everyone he ever loved.**

 **This chapter covers the first few days of classes and a lot of shouting.**

* * *

 **Time**

 **4\. Chapter 3**

 **Saved by the Impossible**

Harry woke up with a start; a mixture of nightmares and shouting had awakened him, and he frantically opened his curtain to see what the fuss was all about. Sirius and Peter were having a shouting match only a few feet away from his bed.

"Guys," Harry said calmly.

No response, just more shouting.

"GUYS!"

Sirius and Peter stopped yelling and looked over at Harry.

"What's going on?"

"Sirius stole my robes!" Peter accused in a loud voice that Harry didn't know he could manage.

"Oh, really, Pettigrew?" Sirius said loudly. "We all know you misplace stuff, not even after a day, you just want to blame someone else!"

"Sirius!" Harry said, placing a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Both of you, calm down. Sirius, stop screaming. Peter, I'll find your robes."

"No need," said Remus.

Harry turned to see the young werewolf holding up a set of robes that could only be Pettigrew's. He tossed them to Peter, who dropped them. Sirius snorted, only to receive an elbow in the robes from Harry.

"Be nice," Harry chided. Sirius rolled his eyes and loosened his tie.

Harry walked over to James's bed to shake the latter awake. When James kept sleeping, Harry cast a nonverbal _Augumenti_ over his father/brother's face. He quickly conjured a bucket before James opened his eyes, as to not draw any suspicions by nonverbally casting a spell (besides, they hadn't even started classes yet).

"What was that for?!" James asked, annoyed.

"We need to get to breakfast, we've got classes."

James groaned as if classes were some kind of personal insult to him.

Harry smiled and rolled his eyes before dropping James's robes on his face.

Twenty minutes later, the five boys rushed out of Gryffindor Tower, Harry leading the way to the Great Hall.

They had Transfiguration with the Ravenclaws first thing that morning.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts," she said. "Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

She then changed her desk into a pig and back again.

After taking a lot of complicated notes, they were each given a match and started trying to turn it into a needle.

Harry concentrated on not changing his so fast, because he didn't want to draw any suspicions. He managed to go a few times without doing anything, and started to work his way into it—making it pointy, then silver, before he finally allowed himself to change it into a full needle, which impressed Professor McGonagall.

"I'm impressed, Mr. Potter," she said with a smile, as she examined the needle, "I've never had a student fully transform their needle on the first day. You will do well in this subject." Harry smiled back at her and took his needle back, before turning to James to help him.

James hadn't done anything to his needle, and was starting to get frustrated, as he repeated the words over and over again.

"James, focus. Go slower and pronounce the words better," Harry instructed, and James did as he was told, but still nothing happened. "Now, try to push your magic out and imagine the match as a needle."

James took a deep breath and pronounced the Latin words. A minute later, his match had turned silver. James beamed at the change and continued. Although he didn't manage to finish it before class ended, Harry thought he did really well.

By the time the class ended, only Harry had managed to change his match into a full needle, though James, Remus, Lily, and Xeno Lovegood had made signficant progress.

Herbology was next, and Harry found it very boring. They didn't do anything practical until second year—and Harry already knew everything they were taught—but he allowed Remus to answer the questions that Sprout asked.

At lunch, they sat as a group and began to discuss their day, "So far, this is great!" James exclaimed as he piled food onto his plate. "I nearly changed my match into a needle and I learned a lot about magical plants!"

Remus nodded at James. "Herbology is amazing," he said happily. "I can't wait until we start practical work. There's so many different kinds of plants!"

Harry laughed inwardly as his friends talked about the two subjects they had attended so far. He had known about Remus's talent for Defense, of course, but not about his love of Herbology.

They had History of Magic next, with the Ravenclaws, and it was as boring as ever. Harry simply pulled out his textbook and read. He had never paid any attention to the subject, and never bothered to read the book, so he was surprised when it was actually interesting. The Marauders quickly caught on and followed Harry's lead.

When they finally got to Potions, Harry was glad to see Slughorn there instead of Snape. While Snape had turned out to be working for the Light, he was a horrible teacher.

Harry found out that Remus was quite good at Potions. Peter seemed to be horrible at the subject, while James and Sirius were about average. The potion, which Harry knew was a lot easier than what Snape had set them, was supposed to turn blue. Harry's and James's turned the correct shade, though Harry knew they had an advantage because he had already brewed it before. Sirius and Peter's potion, however, had turned an ugly brown color.

By the end of the day, Harry was so exhausted that he didn't even have any nightmares.

* * *

Most of the school thought Harry was a prodigy in magic. He was always the first one to get things down and remember the things they had learned. While he felt guilty that it was because he had already learned everything, he liked the praise. He never got any at the Dursleys', and not much at Hogwarts the first time around, with the exception of the praise he had received for his Patronus.

The Marauders had begun pranking more often, but they hadn't done anything that crossed a line. Harry assumed that things hadn't been as bad while they were still young. He was determined to make sure they never got anywhere near as far as what they had done to Snape in their fifth year.

As for Snape, Harry had already had his first encounter with the Slytherin and he knew instantly that Snape still didn't like him at all. It had been an accident that they "met" and it wasn't on the best of terms. Harry was determined to try to find a way to change the other boy's opinion of him.

He had been looking for James, whom he had lost somewhere in the castle, when he accidently bumped into the Slytherin.

"Potter!" Snape had roared as his things fell to the ground. A few unpleasant memories from Potions had come forward but Harry ignored them. Snape had stared at Harry. "Which one, exactly?" he asked with a sneer.

Harry had apologized, and tried to help the Slytherin pick up his belongings, but the boy had snapped, "Don't touch it," before picking them up himself. "Don't mess with my stuff," he said firmly as he stood back up and glared at Harry before storming away.

Harry hadn't spoken to Lily yet, and honestly, he was afraid to. Lily hadn't liked the Marauders until their seventh year, and Harry was afraid she wouldn't like him, either. He wasn't sure he could handle knowing that his mother hated him.

* * *

Flying lessons started that Friday, and Harry was itching to get back on a broom. He was almost bouncing with excitement, though not as much as James, who was also nervous—along with Peter—thinking he was going to be awful. Sirius, however, was confident that he would do well.

As they walked to the Quidditch pitch for the first flying lessons, Remus's mild excitement had dimmed dramatically as he saw the brooms. He seemed almost as nervous as Peter as he glanced at the brooms warily.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" Madam Hooch barked as she walked up. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Harry glanced down at his broomstick and felt a longing for his old Firebolt. He had lost it and knew he wouldn't be able to get one again for many years. They didn't even make Firebolts in this new time.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'Up!'"

"UP," Harry shouted, his broom jumping into his hand at once as Harry grinned. James's had also come up quickly as he beamed over at Harry. Peter wasn't having such luck as he stuttered as he said the word, but after a while, everyone had their brooms in the air, Peter being one of the last.

Hooch showed them how to grip their brooms, and walked around, correcting them many of them, but smiled at Harry's perfect grip. Peter started to shake with nervousness as they continued, and Harry attempted to shoot him an encouraging look. He knew the boy didn't like him, but he wanted to change that. Sort of.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard." Madam Hooch ordered. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle—three, two, one."

They rose a few feet like she said, even Peter managed to rise, although his broom was wobbly. They continued like this for a while, repeating the action. Harry wanted to go ahead and start flying, but he knew he couldn't. They started to rise higher and higher, never going higher than ten feet, and he reminded himself to be patient.

"Alright, rise ten feet and slowly turn your broom in a circle," Hooch said.

The students slowly followed her directions. Peter's broom, however, shot upwards as he turned and flew quickly into the air, with Peter screaming the whole way. He was nearly thirty feet in the air before he managed to stop the broom as he looked at the ground in horror, eyes wide with fear.

"Come back, boy!" Hooch shouted. Peter, however, had no idea how, as he screamed in fright. Harry, knowing that the Marauder would be seriously injured if he fell from that height, shot up after him.

"Mr. Potter!" screeched Hooch, but he ignored her. All that mattered then was getting Peter to the ground safely. He might not have liked the boy, but would feel really bad if the other got seriously injured.

He looked at the frightened boy. "Go down slowly," he ordered firmly. "Lean forward slightly, just like earlier."

It had to be something with Peter's broom, however, because he followed Harry's instructions, but the broom started to shoot into a dive that Harry knew that Peter wouldn't be able to pull out of. Harry went into his own dive, trying desperately to get Peter's broom to stop—barely paying attention to his own dive, but enough to land and whisper a quick _Arresto Momentum_ , while staring at Peter. He had never performed wandless magic, but he was nervous; besides, he hadn't been sure if he could pull his wand out quick enough. Surprisingly, it worked.

Peter managed to stick his legs out to break the fall, and stumbled off the broom. He shot Harry a grateful smile, and Harry grinned back.

"Thanks, Harry," he said breathlessly.

"Of course."

* * *

Harry was in the Room of Requirement, attempting wandless magic again. He hadn't done wandless magic before, not before the flying lesson; besides, he hadn't expected it to actually _work_.

He supposed his magic had rushed out with immense power, allowing Harry's wandless spell to work.

Harry, as he had been doing for the past half hour, stared at the pillow he had placed on the floor, and whispered, " _Wingardium Leviosa_."

The pillow twitched a bit, but nothing more. He was getting closer.

" _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," he repeated, more forcefully this time. The pillow twitched again.

Harry was growing rather frustrated. He had been trying to wandlessly levitate this pillow for thirty minutes now, but had gotten no results.

The door opened and Harry spun around, drawing his wand with remarkable speed.

It was James.

"Harry! There you are!"

"Hi, James," said Harry, rolling his eyes.

"What're you doing?"

"Trying to get ahead. You know, Levitation Charm," lied Harry.

"Oh, yeah, Remus can do that spell. Have you managed it yet?"

"I did once, but I can't do it again," said Harry. It was lucky he had good lying skills.

"Can I see?"

"I told you, I can't—"

" _Please_?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Fine." He turned back to the pillow and pretended to concentrate really hard. He did the wand movement, and said, " _Wingardium Leviosa_ ," again. He put enough force into the spell to allow the pillow to levitate a few feet above the floor.

"Nice!" James said excitedly, high-fiving Harry, who grinned. It felt good to be praised by his father. He hadn't gotten much praise before he came to this alternate past.

"Thanks."

"What is this place?" James asked, looking around.

"Room of Requirement. I—read about it somewhere, probably _Hogwarts: A History_ , and I wanted to check it out. Apparently, if you walk past that stretch of wall thrree times, thinking what you want it to be three times, it'll show itself. It—changes to fit your needs. You were looking for me, is that right?" James nodded. "Well—you were looking for me, and—I suppose you hadn't looked here, and I guess you really wanted to find me, so it showed itself."

"That makes sense," said James. "Sort of."

* * *

Back in the common room, the Marauders plus Harry were sitting in front of the fire, in the most comfortable places. Harry and Remus had used the Levitation Charm to make their textbooks chase each other around the room.

"You know Merlin was a Slytherin, right?" Harry asked the group in general, hoping he sounded offhand.

"Can't've been, Slytherins are evil," Sirius said, a hint of laziness evident in his voice.

"He _was_ , and not _all_ Slytherins are evil."

There was a moment of silence before Sirius and James burst out laughing.

"Nice one, Harry," Sirius said in between laughs.

"I'm not joking!" Harry said loudly, and—he had to admit—a bit desperately.

"Sure," said James, rolling his eyes. Harry sighed, collapsing onto the couch, letting his Potions textbook fall to the ground. He hadn't realized how much effort it would take to convince them that not all Slytherins were a bunch of slimy snakes.

* * *

 **A/N: This was quite a long chapter for my standards, just like the last chapter.**

 **I just imagine that Sirius and Peter had a bit of a rocky relationship at the very beginning.q**

 **Again, feel free to review!**


	5. Already Injured

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own Harry Potter. Any recognizable people, places, events, items, or spells belong to JK Rowling.**

 **Summary: Due to a strange incident involving a Time-Turner, a bar of chocolate, and a photo, Harry Potter finds himself in his eleven-year-old body during the summer of 1971. Not only does he meet those he never thought he would see again, but also takes the chance to save everyone he ever loved.**

 **This chapter covers some flying, a visit to the hospital wing, and a reflective Harry.**

* * *

 **Time**

 **5\. Chapter 4**

 **Already Injured**

 **September 4, 1971**

"I want to go flying!"

"We know, James," Harry said, rolling his eyes. James had been repeating those five words over and over again as the Marauders plus Harry sat in the common room.

"If you want to go flying, just go flying," said Remus. "Simple as that."

"Yes!" James yelled. "Sirius, Harry, come on!"

Harry rolled his eyes again, but followed James and Sirius out of the common room. They would have to use school brooms, but anything beat sitting around in the common room, doing nothing.

Running down to the Quidditch field, they borrowed three Shooting Stars from the school broom shed, before mounting them and kicking off hard.

Harry and James chased Sirius around the Quidditch field before James flew back to the ground and borrowed the Quaffle.

They tossed the Quaffle around; James even scored a goal from the center of the field. He then threw the Quaffle to Sirius, who threw it to Harry, who threw it back to James. The throws were getting more and more forceful. James had just thrown the Quaffle to Sirius, who had almost toppled off the end of his broom. Sirius then tossed it to Harry. Harry extended his arms, hoping to catch it, but the ball fell short, hitting him in the stomach and pushing him off the broom.

Time seemed to go in slow-motion as Harry fell. For some reason, he felt as if he were underwater. He distantly heard James's shout as he hit the ground. Pain racked his body before he fell unconscious.

* * *

Harry woke in a soft bed that felt like a bed in the hospital wing. He heard voices to his side that sounded suspiciously like James, Sirius, and Remus.

"When will he wake up?" Sirius groaned. "It's been hours already!"

"Sirius, it's been twenty minutes," said Remus.

"Peter's already fallen asleep," said James. "Can't've been that long."

Harry grinned inwardly, though he wasn't fond of the idea of Peter being at his bedside. _Just because I saved his life_ , he thought, _doesn't mean I have to like him_. It was true. Harry highly disliked the boy, even though he knew that it wouldn't be best for him to hold onto grudges he'd had in the past. Or was it the future? _I_ _t doesn't matter_ , he told himself firmly. _I can't hold onto grudges, they could get in the way of my goal. I need to save everyone, not fall apart becasue I can't get over one simple little grudge against this kid. Snap out of it, Harry._ He opened his eyes slowly, and jumped slightly when he heard James scream, "Harry!"

"James, stop screaming," said Remus.

Harry smiled.

"You fell off your broom," said Sirius.

"I know."

"Sirius broke you," James said accusingly.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Sirius didn't break me."

Harry then heard Hagrid's voice from the back wall. "Hey, Harry, how're yeh feeling?"

"Alright. You know, as good as I can be, having just fallen fifty feet."

"Hagrid carried you up here," Remus explained.

"Yer brother here, James, came rushin' to me hut after yeh'd fallen. Said somethin' abou' Sirius throwin' the Quaffle too hard. Anyway, I brought yeh up here, and James told Madam Pomfrey that yeh'd fallen off a broom. And here we are."

Harry nodded. "Thanks, Hagrid."

"Any time."

* * *

Hagrid and the Marauders left half an hour later, and Madam Pomfrey approached his bed.

"You had a cuncussion and a broken arm, but I healed both. However, I did discover a few other injuries. You have a puncture on your right arm. Would you care to tell me where you got this from?"

 _The basilisk in my second year. Wait—I thought Fawkes healed that!_ "I don't know," Harry lied, hoping she thought it was from when he was young, and was some result of accidental magic, or something similar.

She frowned. "You also have a long burn on your arm. Where did that come from?"

 _The dragon in my fourth year._ "Accidental magic when I was young. I conjured some fire and was too young to know it was dangerous."

The questions continued for several more minutes as Harry either anwsered somethign similar to the truth or said that he didn't know. Finally, the matron said, "You have an appointment with me next Monday to re-break a few bones and heal them. You have many old injuries that did not heal correctly."

Harry nodded, releived that she wouldn't continue asking questions.

"You will stay here tonight. It isn't best for you to be up and running around right now."

Harry nodded again.

* * *

 **September 5, 1971**

Harry was released from the hospital wing the next day. After a night of nightmares, ending with Madam Pomfrey giving him dreamless sleep potion, Harry was glad to leave.

James had made Harry tell him what happened in the hospital wing. Harry obliged, telling his father/brother about his injuries, and what he had said in response to Madam Pomfrey's questions, before James had left.

He decided to sit in the common room for a while and go over his whole situation. Madam Pomfrey had found his old scars and injuries from the Dursleys' and his years at Hogwarts; James' protective nature would be even more overwhelming, and Harry would likely get no privacy for a long time. And the most frustrating thing was that a Horcrux was right there in the castle with him, he barely knew where it was, and he had no idea how to retrieve it. On top of it all, he hadn't even spoken to Lily, and Snape still hated him, like always. He did have four new friends—one being his father and another his godfather—but he still couldn't tell anyone that he had gone back in time—and had to lie about his entire past—as he carried the weight of the Wizarding world on his shoulder.

Sometimes, he wondered why he had even gone back. He had already defeated Voldemort. He could have started a new life in the Muggle world, or stayed with the Weasleys. He could have found a place of his own. He could have helped Andromeda raise Teddy. He should have just left fate and time alone—like a regular person—but no, he had done what the letter-writer had told him to do—he had gone ahead and headed back to his parents' era, and now everything was so complicated and difficult. While the classes he took were quite easy, he had so much he needed to do. Somehow destroy all the Horcruxes—he only hoped that they were in the same places as they had been the first time around—save everyone's lives, make sure Regulus and Snape didn't become Death-Eaters, defeat Voldemort, and fix all the other things that needed to change.

Harry put his head in his hands and groaned softly. How was it that this didn't really hit him until now? He had been in the past for months and yet he never really thought about it. He's had a few months to get used to the idea of being in the past, to get used to being with James, Fleamont, and Euphemia. Now, however, school had started and he finally realized all the things he had to do.

Voldemort was out there. He had to defeat the Dark wizard for a second time. How many wizards could say they've defeated a Dark wizard twice? And technically, it was three times if one counted the time when he was a baby.

"Harry?" Remus's voice broke Harry from his thoughts, and he looked up to see his friend standing there with a concerned look on his face, "Are you alright? You look kind of sick."

Harry smiled softly at him "I'm fine," he lied. He most definitely was not fine. His situation seemed impossible and unreal. He hadn't been born and yet, here he was, growing up as a brother to his father—yet another thing that made him different from everyone else.

Pulling his legs to his chest, he stared into the fire. A single tear slipped out of his eyes as he thought about life before all this. So many people had died beffore he came back. Each death that he remembered brought another pang to his heart. Most of those people weren't even born yet and the few that had been were so different in this time.

Thinking of them reminded him why he had gone back in time. If he had a chance to save all his friends and family—and end the war early—and he didn't take it, what kind of person would he be? How could he have ever looked anyone else in the eye, knowing he had a chance to save their friends and family and didn't take it? They might never be the people he had known, but at least they would be alive.

He was going to make sure they all survived, even though he had no idea how. He would make sure they were all okay in the end, no matter what. Even if it caused him his own life. He would protect them.

He pulled out his wand and went over a few spells to try and get his mind off things. He repeated the most simple spells, like _Lumos_ and _Alohomora_. He could have done more but he didn't want to risk someone walking in. He had just started on _Wingardium Leviosa_ , making random things float up and down, when the portrait slammed open and a frantic James ran in, pausing when he saw Harry and sighing in relief. The book Harry was levitating stopped in midair and he remembered that he was supposed to have gone to lunch.

"Harry!" James shouted, as he rushed up to Harry. "Do you know how worried I was?"

Harry shrugged sheepishly. "I was just in here," he muttered, as he slowly dropped the book so it landed on the couch. "Forgot about lunch."

James sighed and sat next to Harry on the couch. "You okay?" he asked softly.

Nodding, Harry replied, "I'm fine."

James didn't interrogate, and Harry was relieved. He couldn't tell him that the reason he was upset was because he had to save the Wizarding World and everyone in it, and he was too upset to think of a good excuse.

James patted Harry's shoulder. "That was some good spellwork," he said. "We haven't had a practical Charms class yet. You must be practicing a lot."

Nodding again, Harry knew it was true. He'd had a lot of practice with a lot more spells.

"Thanks," he replied quietly as he smiled at the other boy, his gaze not wavering from his father's face.

"Well, come on," said James, "Let's go eat. No offense, but you _really_ look like you need it."

* * *

 **A/N: I told you there would be a reflective Harry. Anyway, I think I'm getting better at writing longer chapters. I've started working on Chapter 5 already, and no, I'm not telling you what it's about yet.**

 **Yes, I've added chapter names, I wrote them on my outline. I actually wrote the outline a while ago, but I lost it and just re-discovered it a few days before I posted this story.**

 **The whole Harry-falling-off-a-broom-because-Sirius-threw-the-Quaffle-too-hard thing was in the outline. Please keep in mind that I wrote the outline a while ago, when my writing skills were pretty bad. Don't judge me.**

 **Feel free to review, and thanks to those who have!**


	6. Proof

**Disclaimer:** **I do not own Harry Potter. Any recognizable people, places, events, items, or spells belong to JK Rowling.**

 **Summary: Due to a strange incident involving a Time-Turner, a bar of chocolate, and a photo, Harry Potter finds himself in his eleven-year-old body during the summer of 1971. Not only does he meet those he never thought he would see again, but also takes the chance to save everyone he ever loved.**

 **This chapter covers some more classes, a random Hufflepuff friend, and a conversation between Harry and Sirius.**

* * *

 **Time**

 **6\. Chapter 5**

 **Proof**

 **September 9, 1971**

The next Transfiguration class was a continuation of the last. Harry, having completed the Transfiguration of his match, walked around the room, helping the other students. This class, James had managed to Transfigure his match the first try. Around hallway through the lesson, Harry found himself at Peter's desk, who was having trouble.

He repeated what he had told James the previous week. Peter said the incantation once again, and the match turned silver. Excited at the change, he repeated the Latin words again, though the match didn't change.

"Peter, focus," said Harry. "Imagine the match turning into a needle."

Peter repeated the incantation; again, nothing happened.

Harry understood the situation. "It's self-confidence you're lacking," he said. " _I_ think you can do it. Try again."

Peter complied, and the end of the match thinned to a point. A few more tries, and it would be a full needle.

Harry moved to help Sirius—who, by the end of class, had fully managed to Transfigure his match into a needle, as had everyone.

In Herbology, they did group reviews of the previous class, in which they had gone over a lot of information.

Harry was in a group with Remus, Connor Matthews, and Grayson Brakes (Hufflepuffs).

Remus and Grayson did most of the talking—Harry and Connor chimed in only when Professor Sprout was near their table and could hear their conversation.

Connor fingered his quill while Harry got lost in his own mind. He hadn't heard the surnames Matthews or Brakes before. Had Connor and Grayson died, had they stayed out of the war and never had kids, had they moved out of the country to somewhere Voldemort wasn't a constant threat...? There were so many questions that Harry didn't know the answers to, and it frustrated him to not know his classmates' fates. How was he supposed to save everyone if he didn't even know how they died?

Grayson looked Pureblood, and Harry noticed a slight resemblance to the Fawleys, though his dark, piercing eyes reminded Harry of the Blacks.

Connor, however, bore no resemblance to any of the Wizarding families Harry knew of. He had dirty blonde hair with flecks of red that fell into his eyes when he turned his head, and dark green eyes that Harry felt were piercing into his soul when they made eye contact.

"So you're Harry Potter," said Connor, his voice lacking emotion.

"I am," he replied, nodding subtly.

"Your brother gets into a lot of trouble."

Harry nodded again. James and the others had been pulling more pranks recently. Remus had found an interesting charm that turned the victim's hair a certain color. Sirius had then performed it at lunch the day before, turning the Slytherins' hair red and gold. It had cost him fifteen points—five from McGonagall, who knew it was him, and an extra ten from Lucius Malfoy, just out of spite—but, according to Sirius, it had been worth it.

"You seem to be the more responsible of you two," said Connor.

"I'm sure I am," Harry replied. He was surprised to hear Connor laugh—it was a quiet laugh, of course, as to not draw Sprout's attention, but still a laugh.

"Have you always been more responsible?" Connor asked, cocking his head to the side slightly. It was a motion, barely noticeable, but Harry saw it and had to suppress a small chuckle.

"As long as I can remember," he answered.

That wasn't exactly false. He hadn't yet gained access to _all_ of his alternate self's memories, but according to the ones he _had_ seen, he was more—much more—responsible than James.

He and Connor grew closer throughout the class—as close to friends as they could get, really, having only known each other for forty-five minutes.

History of Magic was with the Ravenclaws. Harry, as usual, took notes from the book instead of Binns' lecture. Besides, he had borrowed Hermione's notes the first time around, and had managed to scrape a pass in the subject. Luckily, that meant he knew about most of what Binns was talking about that _wasn't_ in the book. He'd managed to drown out the Professor's voice and concentrate on his textbook, and was concentrating so hard he nearly didn't hear the bell.

Potions was interesting enough, Harry supposed. They took notes on the side effects of the Boil Cure Potion, which wasn't as boring as Harry had thought it would be. At least Slughorn's voice didn't make the class want to fall asleep right there and then.

Around halfway through the class, the Slytherin boy next to Harry—Bennett Turner—spoke up. "Your brother hates Slytherin."

Harry sighed and nodded. "He does. I wish he wouldn't, though."

"I hate the stereotype," said Bennett, "it's annoying and a lot of pressure. I thanked a Ravenclaw the other day for holding a door open for me, and they asked if I felt alright, if I needed to go to the hospital wing."

"Not all Slytherins are Death Eaters, people just need to realize that," said Harry.

Bennett nodded, looked Harry in the eye, and said matter-of-factly, "I like you, Harry. You make sense and you aren't prejudiced."

The Gryffindor table was loud with chatter that evening at dinner, though Harry didn't pay much attention to it. He knew that James and Sirius were planning pranks, and that Remus was reading, and that Peter was desperately trying to take part in James and Sirius' conversation. He could feel the stares, he could practically _sense_ people wondering why he was nothing like his "twin." He knew what was going on around him.

Back in the Gryffindor common room, Harry turned on Sirius. "You don't talk much about your family."

That was true. The other boys were always talking about their families, and what Houses their parents were in, and what their lives before Hogwarts were like. But Sirius—Sirius didn't talk much about any of those. All any of the others—besides Harry, of course—seemed to know was that Sirius was the first Black who wasn't in Slytherin.

"I don't think they're worthy of being talked about," Sirius said shortly, not looking up at Harry.

"Come on," said Harry, "they can't all be evil."

Sirius gave a noncommittal jerk of the head. "I mean, my cousin, Andromeda, she's alright, and Uncle Alphard is nice, but that's it."

"See?" said Harry, hopeful and desperate, though he was careful not to show it. "Not all Slytherins are bad."

Sirius glanced up at him, a contradicting fire in his dark eyes. He clearly didn't like the idea of not all Slyhterins being slimy snakes who joined Voldemort at the first possible moment—that was something else Harry wanted to change: Sirius's refusal to admit that a Slytherin can be good. "They're the only exceptions."


	7. Interlude: Correspondence

**A/N: I got this whole interlude idea from Lightning on the Wave's stories (read them, by the way, they're amazing). I don't own this idea. **

**The interludes will show the contents of letters, to/from any of the main characters (so far, the term "main characters" refers to Harry, James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter—this list will most likely get longer as the story moves along), and to/from whoever they'd be writing to/be written to by.**

 **I understand that was confusing. I don't understand it much, either. But it made sense while writing it—sort of—and I didn't know how else to word it.**

 **Disclaimer:** **I do not own Harry Potter. Any recognizable people, places, events, items, or spells belong to JK Rowling.**

 **Summary: Due to a strange incident involving a Time-Turner, a bar of chocolate, and a photo, Harry Potter finds himself in his eleven-year-old body during the summer of 1971. Not only does he meet those he never thought he would see again, but also takes the chance to save everyone he ever loved.**

* * *

 **Time**

 **7\. Interlude**

 **Correspondence**

 _September 2, 1971_

 _Harry,_

Congratulations on making Gryffindor, your father and I are so proud. I imagine that James is quite excited to be in Gryffindor, as well.

Speaking of James, keep an eye on your brother. He may be older, but that doesn't make him any more mature.

I know you, Harry. Don't pretend to be a second year and participate in Quidditch trials. You may watch, but only watch.

Congratulations again.

All my love,

 _Euphemia Potter_

* * *

 _September 2, 1971_

 _James,_

Congratulations on making Gryffindor, your father and I are so proud.

I've asked your brother to keep an eye on you, so listen to him.

I told Harry this, and I ask the same of you: Do not pretend to be a second year so you can try out for the Quidditch team. You may watch, but only watch.

Congratulations again.

All my love,

 _Euphemia Potter_

* * *

 _September 3, 1971_

 _Mum—_

Thanks for the letter; I'm glad you're proud. Don't worry, I'll take care of James, and I'll try my hardest to prevent him from participating in Quidditch trials.

Don't worry about me.

 _—Harry C. Potter_

* * *

 _September 3, 1971_

 _Dear Mum,_

If I didn't already know the answer, I'd ask why you told Harry to keep an eye on me. To be honest, Harry will probably have to physically prevent me from participating in the Quidditch trials. I know that's not exactly reassuring, but at least I'm honest.

The other three boys in my dorm are really nice: Peter Pettigrew, Remus Lupin, and Sirius Black—I know you don't like his family and that you say they're evil, but he's different, I can tell. For one, he's in Gryffindor; you said that the Blacks have been in Slytherin since the beginning of time.

Don't worry about me—actually, I take that back, which is probably not good. You probably should worry about me.

Your son,

 _James Henry Potter_

* * *

 **A/N: You might find the interlude formatting a bit weird, but it made sense to me while writing it. Then again, things I do don't usually make sense to others. Basically, the dates, salutations, and sign-offs (I think that's what you call them) are italicized. Signatures. There. That's right. I think.**

 **Anyway, people might be wondering why Harry signed his letter to Euphemia as "Harry C. Potter" instead of "Harry J. Potter." It was in the first chapter—well, technically, it was the second chapter, but the prologue doesn't count as a chapter. Anyway, my point is, Harry's middle name in this alternate past is Charlus, after Fleamont's father. It would be a bit weird if someone's middle name was the same as the first name** **of their sibling, much less that of their twin.**

 **Again, feel free to review!**


	8. His Area of Expertise

**And HAPPY BIRTHDAY ME!**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Any recognizable people, places, events, items, or spells belong to JK Rowling.**

 **Summary: Due to a strange incident involving a Time-Turner, a bar of chocolate, and a photo, Harry Potter finds himself in his eleven-year-old body during the summer of 1971. Not only does he meet those he never thought he would see again, but also takes the chance to save everyone he ever loved.**

 **This chapter covers some more flying. This time, however, no one ends up in the hospital wing.**

* * *

 **Time**

 **8\. Chapter 6**

 **His Area of Expertise**

The first person who spoke to Harry Saturday morning was Sirius.

"Harry, come on, you and James and I are going to teach Remus and Peter how to fly!"

Harry sat up and checked the time. 6:39. "Really, Sirius? This early?"

"Peter's already up," said James, "so you can't be _that_ tired."

Harry shrugged and climbed out of bed, putting on a red t-shirt and jeans. He didn't bother trying to comb his hair; he had found that trying to tame it only made it worse.

He followed the Marauders onto the training grounds—Ravenclaw was using the Quidditch field for practice; they were determined to win their first match, against Hufflepuff.

"Why are they practicing so hard?" asked Sirius. "It's just Hufflepuff."

Remus glared at Sirius and Harry felt a faint smile growing on his face. Tonks had been in Hufflepuff. Then he remembered seeing her and Remus's bodies in the Great Hall, and he shook his head violently, only to draw the attention of the other four boys.

"Harry, are you okay?" James asked nervously.

Harry nodded. "I'm fine."

James kept staring at him for a moment before shrugging and running off to borrow school brooms.

He tossed one each to Harry, Remus, Sirius, and Peter, who dropped it.

Half an hour later, the five of them were all in the air, mounted properly.

"Alright," said James, "lean forward slightly to move."

Remus obliged, speeding forward _way_ too fast. Sirius yelled, "Yank the broom back to stop!"

Remus did and the bottom stopped. Harry shot him a thumbs-up and he grinned, pleased with himself.

"Go on, Peter, you can do it," Harry said encouragingly, giving the other boy a friendly smile.

Peter hesitated for a few seconds before nodding nervously and leaning forward slightly. He didn't go as fast as Remus had gone—he went faster. Luckily, he had been paying attention when Sirius told Remus how to brake, and did the same. His broom stopped, and he grinned at the others, proud that he'd managed it.

"Tilt the broom up to fly up and tilt it down to dive," said Harry. "Try it, both of you."

Remus flew up first before diving back down to Harry, James, and Sirius' level, while Peter did the opposite. He showed surprising courage as he dove and Harry smiled encouragingly at him as he flew back up.

"You're a good teacher, Harry," said Remus, as the five boys walked back up to the castle.

Harry smiled. "Flying's my area of expertise." He made a weird, slightly dramatic hand gesture as he said it, making the other boys laugh. He accidentally slapped Remus in the face as he waved his arms around.

"You're really clumsy, Harry," chuckled Remus.

Harry only just managed to hide his grin.

* * *

 **A/N: Sorry for the short chapter, I got stuck.**

 **I don't actually know how they brake while riding brooms, so I just guessed. If someone can tell me the correct way, I would be very grateful.**

 **Apparently, there were a bunch of typos in this story; thanks to** **Riniko22 for pointing them out!**

 **I put the full list of the planned "Odd Turn of Events" titles in my profile.**

 **Feel free to review!**


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